CHAPTER 4 – Tony Couldn't Stop Smiling
Tony couldn't stop smiling. Miguel seemed to be having the same problem. Every now and then he'd reach across the table and squeeze Tony's hand, or when he brushed past him in the small kitchen as they made breakfast, he'd make a point of kissing the back of Tony's neck.
Tony was feeling sort of bad about giving Miguel a fake name – Gus, his old undercover name, at that – but it was something he did when meeting strangers at gay bars. Just another layer of self-protection. For all he knew, Miguel wasn't his new lover's real name.
Tony made himself a DiNozzo Defibrillator, the après-drinking concoction made of tabasco sauce and lemon juice in soda water. He cracked a raw egg into it for good measure and drank most of it down in one go. He shuddered and made a sound because that raw egg sliding down his throat was pretty gross, and looked up to find Miguel watching him with curiosity. "This," Tony said, pointing to the glass in his hand. "This is the… uh… defibrillator, an old family recipe for the morning after."
Amused, Miguel said, "Where I come from, we make a stew of beef, potatoes, onions and coriander. I like it with lime juice. They say it's enough to wake the dead."
"Well, next time we get drunk together, I'll try your home remedy," Tony said with a wink, glad he hadn't let his name slip when talking about the DiNozzo defibrillator. He finished up the rest of the drink, and then cooked them an omelet with bacon on the side while Miguel made toast and poured two big cups of coffee. Tony served up the food and they sat down to eat breakfast with tall glasses of water on the side. (He had to gingerly lower himself on the chair because not only did his asshole feel tender, but Miguel seemed to enjoy spanking him).
Downing half the glass of water, Tony predicted he'd be taking a lot of men's room breaks at work, but the water would help clean him out. Hopefully, he wouldn't smell like a distillery by the time he got to work.
They didn't talk much while they were eating, but afterwards, as they sipped their second cup of coffee, Miguel asked, "You think you can find your father?"
Tony stared at him. Had he mentioned Senior to this man? God, what had he said? He asked, "What about him?"
"You told me, last night in the bar, that your dad had gone missing. You seemed pretty angry with him."
Tony had apparently told Miguel how pissed he was at Senior last night. He shrugged hopelessly. "I trusted him, sort of, and now he's screwed up the little bit of good we had between us. I need to talk to him."
Miguel nodded slowly. "I get it. I do. I don't remember much about my dad, but he was the best father. Until he wasn't. He left my mom when me and my big sister were little kids. There was no warning. My mother was devastated. It was hard times for a while, but when I got older I was able to help Mom. Lucia did, too."
Miguel was quiet for a long moment, lost in thought, so Tony laid his hand on top of his and said softly, "Sorry you had to go through that."
Miguel's warm brown eyes met his, and he gave a small smile. "Nah, it's okay, we managed. Motivated us to try harder, do better. Your father, he lives close?"
"So close he's been like a thorn in my side," Tony said, trying to muster up a smile. "As soon as I find him we can sort it out." He changed the subject. "I don't think you said what you do." He noticed Miguel's gaze sharpened, and a second later he relaxed and was smiling once again.
"Stuck behind a desk a lot more than I'd like, pushing papers. There's a form for everything. I'm surprised I don't have to fill one out every time I take a crap at work," he joked. "This is your first day, you said?"
"Yeah, got transferred from another office. Same as you, a lot of paperwork, not much action." Tony hated lying to Miguel but company policy was to keep your work at NCIS close to the vest. The usual line was that you worked for an unnamed government agency that was a big bore. Not too many people pressed for details, Tony had found. He glanced at the wall clock. "I need to take a shower…"
Standing, Miguel gulped down the rest of his coffee, and leaned over to kiss Tony. He said, in a low sexy voice, "I want to see you again."
The words, 'No, it's better if we don't,' ran through Tony's mind, but what came out of his mouth was, "When?"
Seeing Miguel grin was wonderful because that was exactly how Tony felt inside. He'd really needed something like this, someone like Miguel, in his life. Not that he knew the man, but they'd get to know each other and enjoy each other's company while they did. It might last a few days or a few weeks, he knew that. He'd learned not to expect too much, but so far, this man… there was just something about him that Tony found attractive, something more than his powerfully built, muscular body and his sexy moves on the dance floor and in bed.
Miguel found paper and pen on the counter and scribbled down his phone number. "Call me when it's good for you, Gus."
"You want a shower first?" Just the fleeting image of running soapy, slick hands all over Miguel's muscular body was causing him to get hot.
"Nah, I'm going to jog back to my place. Looks like a nice morning. I don't have to be at work until eight."
"Jog? Oh, you drove my car last night, from the bar…thanks. I owe you," Tony said, embarrassed he'd been so drunk.
"You don't owe me anything, Gus. You weren't so drunk you didn't know your way home. Good thing you did, because my rental is just big enough for a bed, and an itty-bitty sink, and, I gotta tell you, the walls are a hell of a lot thinner than this place." Miguel left with a small wave as he headed out the door.
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Tony showered, took extra care with his hair, and dressed in the Armani suit and tie with a Dolce & Gabbana shirt. Zegna shoes completed his outfit. He'd already treated his red, puffy eyes, used a restorative moisturizer, and drank his fill of water with antacids on the side, brushed his teeth twice and swished a liberal amount of mouthwash. At least when he looked in the mirror one last time before heading to work, he thought he looked pretty good. Nobody would know he'd been out half the night drinking unless they had a good, hard look at him. Except for Gibbs. He'd know.
«•» «•» «•»
Even though it had been almost six months since he'd worked in this NCIS office, it was as if nothing had changed. Except for some of the faces. McGee, who'd greeted him warmly, introduced Tony to Alex Quinn, who gave him a once-over with her big brown eyes, apparently approving of what she saw. Their conversation about their backgrounds was cut short by the appearance of Abby, who ran straight to Toy and wrapped him in a big hug. Clayton Reeves came over, grinning, and without releasing Abby, Tony shook his hand and said, "Hey MI6, you're still here."
"Actually, I'm back. Had to go home for a couple of months, but it seems I've been assigned here for a bit longer," the British agent said. Abby finally let go, and bounced around until she decided she needed a Caf!Pow. Bishop joined them, hugging Tony, and Jimmy Palmer arrived bearing coffee and pastries. There was one agent missing, who Tony had never met, as he was taking some evidence down to the lockup. Bishop assured Tony that he and Torres would get along fine, as they had a lot in common.
Tony enjoyed catching up on the watercooler talk, and seeing his colleagues again in person – until Gibbs broke it up with his presence.
"So, you made it back," Gibbs said, clapping Tony on the back and smiling at him.
"Surprise, surprise," Tony countered, unsure what to make of this nice Gibbs.
"You said it," Gibbs said, smirking.
Tony had the feeling Gibbs' response had nothing to do with his comment, but with something else altogether. Gibbs seemed genuinely pleased to see him, which puzzled Tony. "Something going on I should know about?"
"Vance wants to see us," Gibbs replied, as if that were explanation enough.
Holding up a finger, Tony said, "Give me a minute. I need to talk to McGee about something." He didn't wait for his boss's approval to take hold of McGee's arm and steer him to the private spot under the main staircase. There wasn't any time for finesse. "McGee, I need your help. My father accessed my bank account, cleaned me out."
"Tony!" McGee exclaimed, looking appalled. "How much?"
"All my investments," Tony shared in a low voice. "Do you think you can see if you can locate him? I checked with my neighbor – Dad was staying with her while I was away – but all she knew was that Senior disappeared three days ago. I think he might be sitting on a beach in the Caymans about now, sipping martinis and spending my money."
"I can check flights, his phone–"
"I've called, left messages, but he doesn't answer. No sign of him at any of his usual hangouts, lounges, hotels," Tony said.
"I can still track where it's been, check flights… I'll do whatever I can, Tony. I'm sorry," McGee said.
"Just do me a favor, Tim, and don't tell anyone about this. Okay?" Tim nodded and Tony thanked him and hurried to join Gibbs.
They took the short elevator ride up to the director's office in silence, which was fine with Tony. Before he'd taken the NEFO assignment in Newport, he'd talked to Vance and laid down some conditions regarding his future at NCIS. Now he'd find out if Vance agreed to any of them, or if he was going to boot him out on his ear. Maybe Gibbs knew that was the case, and that's why was smiling, thought Tony.
The director retained a neutral expression as he greeted Tony and Gibbs. They sat at the conference table while Vance related how the report from Deputy Director Chasse at NEFO had nothing but praise for the way Tony handled overseeing all the New England cases as well as working with his team on their own Rhode Island-based investigations.
Tony thanked him, said how well-run the Newport NCIS field office was, it was such a beautiful area, "Boss, you'd love the sailing there."
When he was done, Vance got down to business. "As we discussed before you left, Agent DiNozzo, you are past due for a promotion, and, after some talk with Agent Gibbs, I recommended you for a supervisory position and your own team."
Tony was almost left speechless. He was being promoted! He'd told Vance having his own team was way overdue before he'd left on the assignment in Rhode Island, and, damn it, he had come through. From the satisfied look on Gibbs' face, it seemed he approved. Wait a minute, that must mean he was getting transferred. He didn't want to leave DC, but if that was the only way he was going to go up in rank, he'd square his shoulders and do it. He thanked both the director and Gibbs, his mind going a mile a minute with all the questions this raised.
Gibbs stood. "I have to get back to work. You two can hash out the details." Tony rose when Gibbs extended his hand, something he rarely did, and the handshake was strong and succinct. As he reached the door, Gibbs turned to Vance and asked, "You want me to let them in?"
Vance nodded and said, "Supervisory Special Agent DiNozzo, meet the agents who are going to be on your team."
Tony turned to face the door as two men entered. Out in front was Reeves, and just as Vance was saying, "You know Agent Reeves, of course," the tall man reached out to shake Tony's hand, saying he was excited to work with him. Vance added, "And formerly of Gibbs' team, Special Agent Nicholas Torres, who has just started with us after eight years of undercover work…"
It was a good thing that Reeves had walked past Tony to shake hands with the director, and Tony was left to face the second agent, because the man in front of him was his sexual partner from last night – and this morning – the man who had called himself Miguel, the man who had fucked him so hard just hours ago that Tony could barely sit down without wincing.
Realizing his mouth was hanging open, Tony snapped it shut. God knows what his expression was, probably shock as well as a touch of anger.
"I'm Nick Torres. Glad to finally meet you, Special Agent DiNozzo," Torres said formally.
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